


Let’s Take Care of Each Other

by Somerandomauthorrr



Category: Avengers
Genre: 5+1, Blood, Bruises, Bucky has issues, Captain America: Civil War, Captain America: The First Avenger, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Disassociation, Endgame, Endgame fix it, FUCK endgame, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, I’ll write my own goddamn ending, M/M, Nightmares, Nobody Dies, Plenty of crying, Pre-War Bucky, Smoking, So much fucking fluff, Steve Has Issues, Steve Has PTSD, Steve gets his ass kicked a lot, Steve has a panic attack, Stucky - Freeform, The Winter Soldier - Freeform, Vomit, angst then fluff, bucky deserves better, endgame spoilers, five times one time, gay in the 30s, hydra bucky, im a slut for hurt/comfort if you can’t tell, kind of, post Endgame, pre-serum steve, steve gets hurt, they’re so gay oh my god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-25 22:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18711109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somerandomauthorrr/pseuds/Somerandomauthorrr
Summary: Five times Bucky helps Steve, and one time Steve helps Bucky





	Let’s Take Care of Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> Only a little sad, gay as fuck, also really fucking fluffy

I  
“Hey Bucky?”  
James’ eyes shot up once his voice met his ears, silence ensuing. His expression molded into concern quickly as he scanned Steve’s form.   
His frail body was slouched over in obvious discomfort, a dark bruise settling on his eye as dried blood crusted below his nose. His knuckles were scraped up pretty good with small dots of blood decorating them. His hair didn’t look all that good, but that wasn’t exactly off putting.   
“Oh Stevie, what the hell happened?”   
He stood up quickly, quickly discarding whatever he had been occupied with. The desk chair creaked as it scraped across the floor.   
“Some kid was gettin’ thrown around outside the school, y’know?” He wheezed slightly as he spoke, instilling even more concern in his companion. “I stepped in and said to pick on someone their own size, and well, the kid got away.”   
Steve smiled that proud smile he usually wore after an incident similar to this. He was so damn proud of himself to have saved someone, even if it was just for a day. He had constantly preached about his dislike for bullies, and each time he did something about it, he came back grinning. Even if it cost him a broken bone or two.   
“Let’s clean you up buddy.” 

Steve was sat on the edge of Bucky’s bed, shirt tossed aside. He sighed with contempt as the warm cloth ran over his hands and arms, wiping away any dried blood. His inhaler was close by, his friend’s paranoia the reason for its placement. He watched as Bucky cleaned off what he could, pressing another cold rag to his bruising eye. It wasn’t the only one, but it seemed to be the worst. His mother had already been informed of his whereabouts, giving Steve permission to stay with Bucky.   
“You know Buck, it coulda been worse. I held ‘em off pretty good.” “I’m sure you did Stevie, but you gotta stop this.” He set his hand delicately on Steve’s shoulder, looking at his uninjured eye. “The next guy won’t be so nice-“ “but it’s better than some kid gettin’ the snot beat outta him for no reason! I gotta stick up for the little guy.”   
Bucky sighed, attempting to lighten the situation. “Steve, you are the little guy.”   
Both laughed uneasily.   
“You gotta be more careful bud, okay?” “Okay, I’ll try.” He offered a smile, resting his hands on Bucky’s forearm. He took in the heat that resonated off of him, leaning into his touch. His hand relocated to Steve’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over the dark skin. “You know this scares the shit outta me.” “Hey, wash your mouth out.”   
Bucky let himself laugh comfortably. “You know what I mean punk. I don’t wanna find ya slumped against a wall in some alley with blood pourin’ from your nose while you’re passed out.” “And you won’t. I’ll be okay James.”   
He squeezed his arm lightly, trying to provide what comfort he could in his damage state. “I’ll be just fine.”   
Both sighed heavily. Steve searched Bucky’s expression deeply, the result being just what he anticipated. “You need a smoke, don’t you?”   
Steve knew he smoked when he was stressed or upset. At least, more heavily than usual. His hands were shaking slightly, but he did everything he could to keep them steady. He could tell Bucky was itching for a cigarette, and he didn’t want to keep him from it. He assumed he would jump at the opportunity, slipping out the window and into the alley to cloud his lungs with smoke. And yet, his answer surprised him.   
“Not when you’re like this. I’m stayin’ with you.”   
Steve weakly pried Bucky’s hand from his cheek, holding it in his own. “You’re shakin’ buddy. You can step out, I’ll be okay-“ “Steve, I’m not gonna do that. Now shut up so we can go to bed.”   
He was slightly taken aback, but only for a moment. His surprise was interrupted by Bucky tackling him down onto the mattress. 

At some point, the sound of Steve’s dull wheezing managed to knock the both of them out, his body pressed against Bucky’s that one could describe as anything but friendly. 

 

II  
“How ‘bout you fellas pick on someone your own size?”   
The two men turned away from their current occupation to face the owner of the voice, knuckles spotted with blood. “Why don’t you control yer friend here instead? Or would you rather take his place?”   
Bucky stepped forward, cracking his knuckles loudly. He quickly glanced at Steve, who was leaning against the wall for support. A grimace flashed over his face as he noticed the blood dripping onto his shirt. Steve reached up to stop the flow from his nose, smearing blood across his face in the process.   
“Hey jackass, I ain’t got all day-“   
A loud punch rang through the alley, the sound of skin meeting skin filling their ears. The offender toppled over, cradling his cheek. The other leaned in for a swing, but was met with a hand slamming his face to the wall.   
“Get the hell outta here before I break that ugly mug.”   
The two stumbled out of the alley, grumbling obscene words neither cared to listen to.   
Bucky turned back to Steve, concern returning once the adrenaline wore off. “Hey, are you-“   
He leaned in to catch his falling form, pulling him up by his shoulders. Adrenaline built back up quickly as he heard Steve cough harshly.   
“You’re okay, you’re just fine. What happened Stevie?”   
His weak voice provided an answer he hoped would be different. “One of ‘em…was blowin’ smoke…in my face…”  
Another barking cough interrupted, along with a deep gasp. “I can’t-I can’t bre-“ “hey, calm down. We’ll get you home, and get your inhaler.” He managed to get him to his feet, practically carrying him.   
He would’ve immediately scooped him up in his arms and sprinted across town, but he knew people would catch on. Too close for comfort wasn’t such a good idea in public.   
However, once they reached the alley behind Bucky’s house, he did just that.   
The door was kicked in, the noise echoing throughout the empty house.   
Empty. Just what they needed.   
Bucky shoved his way through the house and into his bedroom, delicately setting Steve on his bed. He opened every window in the room in an attempt to get clean air circulating as he searched for his inhaler.   
“Come on, come on…where the fuck-where is it…found it!”   
He quickly plopped down next to Steve, helping him inhale the drugs. He rubbed his back softly as his violent gasps turned to wheezes. He ran his hands through his bloody, golden hair, quietly whispering assurances into Steve’s ear.   
After he deemed it safe to leave the room for a minute or two, Bucky came back with a bag of frozen peas. “Shirt off buddy, I gotta see the damage.”   
Steve fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. His hands were shaking much too bad to properly undress himself in a timely manner.   
Bucky set the bag down, stepping towards the quaking man before him. “Here, let me.”   
He slowly undid each button, taking him in. It had been a while since Bucky had the chance to be this close to Steve, eyes scanning his small chest. He pulled off the bloody, worn fabric, running his fingers over the skin stretched over his ribs. Steve took his hand into his own, looking up to meet the stormy blue eyes he lost himself in so often. However, now wasn’t the time.   
“What happened to you?”   
“Those two were…bothering a lady. I stepped in and…” he tilted his head up, slim fingers running over the forming welt. They travelled down to his left side, right over his bottom ribs. “Got some good hits in before you…”   
Bucky set his hands delicately on the other’s hips, rubbing his thumb over the protruding bones. Steve always surprised him with just how small he was, fragile and easy to break. It even scared him. He didn’t want to end up snapping him in half one day.   
He pulled Steve into his broad chest, resting his chin on his head. He could practically feel his lungs heaving, forcing oxygen in and out. His fingertips ventured to his shredded back, running over the bumpy flesh.   
_Wait. _  
“Steve, what’s goin’ on with your back?”  
He flinched at the question, pulling away quickly. “Nothin’, why?” “I’m not stupid Stevie, what happened?”   
He pressed his hands against Bucky’s chest, trying to put distance between the two. “Nothin’ happened. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”   
Bucky shrugged, stepping back. “If you say so.”   
Once Steve relaxed, he immediately pulled him to his feet, spinning him around. “Oh my God-“   
It looked like road rash. _Bad _road rash. It didn’t look fresh, but it did look as though Steve hadn’t cared for it.  
“Steve Rogers, what the f-“ “language, please.” “Steve, what happened to you?”   
He hesitated, considering his options. He could lie, but Bucky was smarter than that. He wouldn’t believe something Steve came up with on spot. He gave a heavy sigh before replying.   
“Last night, on my way home. I…I got jumped.”   
“Oh Steve…”   
He ran his fingers over the marks, hesitating when Steve audibly groaned. “This could get infected. Did you not clean this out?” “Didn’t have time. I was drunk and tired.”   
Bucky sighed, turning his partner to face him. “Let me clean that up for you, hm?”   
He watched him nod slowly, avoiding his eyes.   
He tilted his chin up delicately, avoiding the welt on his jaw. “Hey, look at me.”   
Steve slowly looked up to meet his eyes, guilt dripping from his features. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be so stupid-“ “hey, I’m not mad. I’m not mad at you. I’m just worried, okay? I don’t want you to get sick. We both know you can’t handle that. You’ve got enough going on with those shitty lungs.”   
Steve excused his profanity, trying to hide his flustered smile. “Okay…” “Let’s clean you up.” ____

____He sat on the sink as Bucky ran a cloth over his back, the bag of frozen peas pressed against his ribs and another bloody cloth sitting in the sink. He flinched whenever he ran over a particularly raw spot, biting his lip to keep from crying out. Bucky pressed small kisses to his shoulders every once in a while, assuring him that it would be okay. He eventually managed to clean out any impurities in the crevices of his tattered skin, holding a fifth of vodka in his hand.  
“Steve, you know I have to do this, and that I don’t want to-“ “just get it over with.” He dug his fingers into his thin legs, weakly heaving.   
As vodka ran down his back and into the sink, Steve shrieking quietly. He grasped for Bucky, clawing at his shirt. Steve pulled himself into his chest, burying his face in the crook of his neck. It hurt to see him so defeated, holding onto him for dear life. _ _ _ _

____Eventually, Bucky deemed the wound clean, rinsing it once more with warm water. Steve leaned into his chest, panting softly. He patted the skin with a fluffy towel, running his hands through his damp hair. It felt so much cleaner, rid of any blood or dirt. He pushed the strands away from his face, warm cheeks exposed to the cool air. “It’s okay Steve, it’s over. You’re okay. You’ll be okay.”  
He pressed another kiss to the top of his head. Steve relaxed bit by bit, still clinging to the larger man. “Buck, ‘m tired.” “Then let’s get some rest, okay?”   
He picked him up slowly, keeping the towel pressed to his back. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s torso, fingers digging into the thick muscles of his back.   
His mumbled words were barely audible.   
“Thank you, Buck.”   
He smiled, setting his small body on the mattress. “Anything for you, punk.” _ _ _ _

____ _ _

____III  
“Steve, are you-holy shit!”   
It was hardly past midnight. He’d heard the door open, but was worried when he didn’t crawl into bed with him like he usually did. Even if he came home ten minutes before they were supposed to be up for drills, he would be in bed with him.   
Considering he’d been gone for the past week, he assumed the first thing he’d do would be slipping into bed with him, wrapping his arms around his waist and telling him just how much he missed him. Instead, he heard frantic footsteps, followed by a door opening. He stood up to investigate, stumbling towards the bathroom.   
Bucky had never expected something of this caliber.   
Steve was leaning over the toilet, bile pushing past his lips and spilling into the porcelain. Bucky watched in absolutely horror as he heaved, sweat clinging to his forehead.   
He stepped towards him, quickly kneeling beside him and rubbing his back. “I didn’t know super soldiers like yourself could throw up.” “I didn’t either.”   
He gagged for a moment or two, nothing left in his stomach to come back up. He leaned back slowly, head resting on Bucky’s shoulder. “I saw…a soldier get…he was hit. He fell right in front of me.”   
Bucky took his hand slowly, noticing it’s unsteadiness. “Hey, it’s okay. Take your time.”   
“He died, and I…I didn’t stop it. I could’ve saved him.”   
“You can’t save everyone Steve. It wasn’t your fault. Casualties are high in war.” He ran a cold hand through his hair, taking in the familiar feeling. He smelled like sweat and gunpowder, with the slight aroma of his cologne masking it lightly. Familiar.   
“I could’ve moved him. I could’ve helped. I could’ve saved him Bucky, I could’ve-“ “hey, it’s okay. You did everythin’ you could. You can’t save everyone.” He turned to face Steve, resting a hand on his cheek. “Let’s clean you up, hm?”   
He helped him to his feet, getting rid of any evidence of the incident. He let Steve brush his teeth and drink some water, watching as he peeled off his uniform. His undershirt clung to his body, accentuating every curve and contour of his toned chest.   
Bucky still couldn’t get over how much Steve had changed, and how much he hadn’t. He was taller and broader than him, with better lungs and an impossibly low risk of long-lasting injury. He no longer coughed violently when Bucky smoked and not many bothered to go a round or two with him in the back alleys anymore. However, he was still that strong-willed guy from Brooklyn who hated bullies with every ounce of his being. He just got a few upgrades.   
“You wanna shower? Might do you some good, you smell like the barrel of your rifle.” “I probably do.” He gave a hesitant smile, nodding slowly. “I’ll be out in a bit.” _ _ _ _

____Steve let the warm water run over his body, washing away the past twenty four hours. Dirt and blood ran down the drain with the runoff, dying the water a murky red.  
Blood. It wasn’t his blood. It was the soldiers. He hadn’t even learned his name. He watched the kid, he was only a _kid _drop dead in front of him.  
He watched as blood pour out from the bullet hole in his chest, pooling on the ground…  
No, he was in the shower, and Bucky was in bed, waiting for him. He wasn’t on the field, and nobody was dying-  
He watched that poor, young soldier die when he could’ve saved him. He would be delivered home with a folded flag. His family was probably at home, waiting for him to come home, and instead would be told their son died on the field, and Captain Rogers couldn’t save him. He didn’t even try. He watched their son bleed out on the field, so young with so much hope. He watched the life drain from his eyes as his superior screamed to move on. Or maybe his wife would be at home, waiting on her nightly call from her new husband, and instead opening the door to find a letter telling her that her husband died in the hands of Captain Rogers, who couldn’t fucking save him-  
“Steve, please.”   
A scream pierced the air as Bucky grasped his shoulders, speaking delicately. “You’re okay. I’m right here Stevie. I’m right here.”   
He shut off the freezing water, grasping for a towel. Steve pulled away as best he could, eyes set on the floor. He wasn’t here, he was on the field. That soldier was dying in front of him. He could’ve stopped it. He could’ve saved him-   
“Steve, you gotta come back.”   
He felt a warm towel wrap around his exposed form, absorbing the cold water that settled on his skin. Someone led him out of the shower with their arms wrapped around his body. “You’re not on the field. You’re right here with me.”   
The smell of his cologne flooded his senses, warmth radiating off of the body that was embracing him. “Come back to me.”   
Steve slowly wrapped his arms around him. His voice was uneasy, tears slipping down his wet cheeks. “I could’ve saved him Bucky. I could’ve saved that soldier.” “You did everythin’ you could. It’s not your fault.” He kissed his forehead, watching Steve settle down. “You did so well.”   
He leaned into his chest, sobbing harshly. “He was so young. He was a kid, Buck. A kid.” “War is bloody, Stevie. You couldn’t have done anything. You’re lucky to be here with me.” He pulled back, setting a hand on his cheek. Bucky’s eyes locked with his, his tone comforting. “It’ll be okay.” ___ _ _ _

______The two stayed up, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep. They laid in bed, Bucky pressed against his back with his arms locked around his torso, just like they used to do back in Brooklyn. He whispered comforting phrases in his ear every once in a while, reminding him that he was here, with him. He was so damn brave. He did everything he could’ve done. He can’t save everyone, even if he held the whole world in his hands. He did his best, and that’s what mattered. He was safe.  
Steve eventually slipped into a relaxed state, watching the sun peek over the horizon. _ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______IV  
The asset wasn’t aware of the reason he was currently diving into the deep water, frantically searching for his body.   
He was a mission. He had completed it. He would drown soon, and he wouldn’t be a threat to HYDRA anymore. He would be dead. He would have completed his mission.   
So why was he panicking when he couldn’t see his body?   
The asset frantically searched for any sign of him, lungs burning from lack of oxygen. He’d been underwater for longer than one would deem necessary, but he wasn’t leaving until he found him. He wasn’t leaving until he found his mission.   
Eventually, a sinking mass of blonde hair caught his attention.   
He dove down, grasping for his body in a way that seemed dangerously familiar. Relief flooded over him once his hands made contact with him, pulling the two towards the surface. The metal was freezing from the water, wet strands of hair clinging to his face. Oxygen shoved itself into his neglected lungs as quickly as possible.   
He waded towards the surface, panicking momentarily before he heard his mission take a breath.   
The asset dropped his body onto the sand like discarded meat, scanning his broken form.   
He had small bruises forming over his face, a result of their fight in the helicarrier. His uniform hugged his contours tightly, accenting the muscle beneath. For some reason, he found himself wanting to run his fingers over him, embrace him, take him in completely-  
No. He’d done enough. He’d certainly done more than enough.   
He turned away, stumbling towards something, anything, away from his current location. _ _ _ _ _ _

______The asset managed to get into his hospital room before the guy with the wings got there. He heard someone say he would be arriving in thirty minutes. That gave him twenty nine to be there.  
He sat at his bedside, the sickening smell of bleach and alcohol permeating his nose. He pushed past it, looking over what remained of his mission.   
A white hospital gown was stretched over his body, butterfly bandages and small strips covering the splits on his face. His shield was leaning against the wall, along with his bagged uniform.   
The asset felt his flesh hand moving up towards his head, running through his soft, golden hair before he could stop himself. The action felt familiar, comfort hovering over him. He sat there for a good ten minutes, playing with his hair. His metal hand was pressed against his thigh, foreign to the situation. He let a relaxed sigh press past his lips as he wove the strands between his aching fingers, letting it be the first delicate touch he placed on the man. But for some odd reason, it didn’t feel like it. He’d been there before. He’d embraced his mission, and he’d cradled his mission, and he’d loved his mission. He’d felt the soft, warm skin beneath both of his hands, moving along with him. He’d touched his mission before, even if he couldn’t remember it-  
He felt his mission move beneath his touch, humming in contemptment.   
The asset immediately flinched away, unaware of how to react. This felt familiar. Sickeningly familiar. He didn’t like familiar. He couldn’t handle familiar.   
He backed up to the window, exiting quickly. However, he stayed, just to make sure he was taken care of until bird man got there. _ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______V  
“I’m fine, I’m fine-where’s Steve?”   
Shuri pressed down on his chest, desperately trying to keep the soldier lying down. “He’s fine, just calm down-“ “You don’t understand. I have to get to Steve. I have to-I have to patch him up. That’s my job. I have to take care of him.” He strained against the princess, turning to face the door. His left shoulder moved periodically, as if he was reaching forward. “Steve!” “Sir, please. Calm-“   
Steve immediately burst through the door, a nurse close behind him. “Bucky!”   
He had blood dripping from his lip, running over what had dried before. His head was on fire and he could hardly stable himself, but all he was focused on was Bucky.   
“What’s wrong?”   
He slid off the table, almost collapsing on the floor. He would have if Shuri hadn’t pulled him up. “Sergeant, please.”   
Steve stepped forward, taking him from Shuri. “Bucky, calm down. It’s okay, I’m right here-“ “you’re hurt. I gotta fix you up, pal.” He reached out to touch his bruising cheek, pulling back once he flinched. “Bucky, it’ll be okay. The nurses are-“ “it’s my job, Stevie. Please, let me.”   
He looked up at Shuri, sympathy practically dripping from his eyes. “Please?”   
She sighed heavily, responding with a nod. “I’m staying here, but okay.” _ _ _ _ _ _

______Bucky ran the cloth over his lip with shaking hands, whimpering each time he tried to bring his nonexistent left hand up. Pain shot through his body in waves, and Steve definitely noticed.  
“Bucky, please. I’ll be fine-“ “once I’m done with you, yeah. Now sit still.” He mopped up each drop of blood, reaching for something cold to press against it. “What’s worse, lip or cheek?”   
He sighed, reaching up to cradle Bucky’s face. “You’re in worse shape than I am.” “I’ll be fine. Just shush and let me fix you.”   
He pressed the cold compress to his lip delicately, watching him relax. “There you go.” _ _ _ _ _ _

______Shuri watched, instinct overridden with instruction from the Captain.  
She was watching a soldier who had his arm blown off and had been thrown like a rag doll care for such minor abrasions. It was obvious he didn’t care that he was exerting every ounce of energy he had left. He didn’t care that caring for his arm was a time sensitive matter. He didn’t care that there wasn’t much he could do for the internal damages the Captain had sustained. All he cared about was bandaging and tending to what he could. He made him his priority. It didn’t matter if he was degrading by the second, he needed him to be okay._ _ _ _ _ _

______“That feel better?” “It does. Thanks Buck.”  
He offered a smile, a rare occurrence these days. “Anything for my best man.”   
Steve pulled his hand back, speaking calmly. “Now, we need to figure out your-“ “you need to rest, Stevie. I’ll be fine.” He leaned into his touch, every muscle burning, begging to be tended to. But Bucky let his mind override his pain.   
“Bucky, you need to let them-“ “it’s fine!”   
He was taken aback by his sudden outburst, unintentionally flinching at his tone change. “Okay, you’re fine.”   
“You have to be okay Steve. I can’t let you hurt when there’s something I can do about it.”   
He calmed down quickly, reaching out to him. He felt his hands meet Steve’s, the warmth encasing him quickly. He pressed his face into his chest, clinging to his body like a desperate child.   
“You have to be okay.”   
Steve could feel tears soaking his shirt.   
When was the last time he’d seen Bucky cry? It had to have been years. Decades. He couldn’t recall it.   
“Buck, I will be. You know that. I’m okay. But we have to take care of you. You know that.” “Not unless you’re comfortable.”   
He pulled back, looking into the familiar stormy blue eyes he missed so dearly. “I’ll go lay down if it’ll make you feel better. Or would you rather me stay?”   
Bucky glanced back, speaking hesitantly. “Could you…do both?”   
Steve looked around for a moment, quickly spotting a chair. He managed to pull it over without letting go of Bucky, setting it next to the table. “Of course I can. I’ll be right here.”   
“And you promise you’re okay?”   
Steve nodded, feeling Bucky’s lips against his forehead. He smiled down at him, running a hand through his hair.   
Neither of them noticed Shuri, eyeing T’Challa across the room, mouthing the words ‘pay up’. _ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______I  
“Bucky!”   
They’d done it.   
They’d finally done it.   
Pepper and Peter were tending to Tony, who was hanging on by a mere thread. Others were reconnecting with the returned. Rocket was crying as he saw Groot stride over to him, T’Challa was hugging Okoye, Scott and Hope were laughing through tears. Everyone was happy. Everyone was okay.   
Except for one minor detail.   
Steve couldn’t find Bucky.   
Sam was scanning the area, desperately looking for the soldier as Steve ran frantically to find him.   
“Bucky, please! Bucky!”   
His body was damn near collapsing. He had given everything he had, riding the edge of consciousness as close as possible. And yet, he still found himself clawing past piles of rubble to find him.   
“Steve, on your left!”   
He immediately turned to see Bucky collapsed on the ground, coughing roughly.   
“Bucky, oh my god-“   
He dropped his shield, panic settling in.   
He was alive. He was okay. He was fine-  
Bucky turned over to see Steve standing above him, blood pouring from his cheek. He smiled softly before he took in his appearance.   
Dirt and ash were smudged over his face, blood dotting his lip. He looked rough as all hell, falling to his knees beside Bucky.   
“Steve? Fuck, we gotta-“ he coughed quickly, clearing his throat. “I gotta fix you up buddy. Come on, let’s-“   
He felt Steve’s arms wrap around his body, tears building up quickly. He sobbed into him, holding him so tight Bucky thought he’d never taste air again.   
He seemed confused. He hadn’t been gone all that long, had he?   
Had he?  
He let Steve break down, tears running off his uniform and pooling in the gaps between the leather. Sam flew by, a sad smile flashing across his face. He would reconnect with Steve later. Right now, he needed to take care of him.   
He cradled the back of Bucky’s head, immediately connecting their lips. Familiarity washed over both of them, tears dripping down his jaw. He hadn’t kissed Bucky like that since they’d reconnected before the accords. It held deep longing, pain dissipating as he took in the feeling of his partner.   
He reluctantly pulled back, smiling through another sob.  
“Bucky, it’s been-you’ve been gone so-so long-“ “hey, it’s okay. I’m right-“ he winced as Steve pulled him closer, speaking through clenched teeth. “I’m right here doll.”   
He immediately pulled back once he heard his tone change, tears creating tracks in the grime on his cheeks. “You’re…” “woah, Thanos really did a number on you, didn’t he?”   
Bucky set a hand on his cheek, rubbing off some of the ash. “We should take care of this. Come on-“ “Buck, you’re hurt.”   
His fingers travelled to his torso, pressing softly. Bucky immediately whimpered, flinching harshly. “We have to get you out of here.” “Steve, I’m fine. You just went a few rounds with a crazy alien thumb. We need to get you-“ right as he tried to stand, he collapsed right into Steve’s arms. He clung to his chest, gasping for air. Fear flashed across the captain’s features as he stood up, cradling Bucky in his arms. “Let’s get you out of here.”   
He pulled back lightly, trying to balance himself. “But Steve, you’re hurt. I’ve gotta patch you up. I’ve gotta-“ he tried to stand himself, but wound up falling instead. Or rather, he stumbled until Steve pulled him up.   
“Bucky, for once, let me take care of you.”   
He looked up into his clear eyes, desperation lacing his irises. His hand reached up to brush through his hair, letting the tangled strands fill the gaps between his rough fingers.   
With a small sigh, Bucky nodded. _ _ _ _ _ _

______“Are you sure you’re okay?” “Bucky, for the twenty-fifth time, yes.”  
He watched Steve wrap gauze around his freshly-stitched arm, taping it off soon after. “There, all done.”   
He turned to look in the bathroom mirror, taking in his appearance.   
His hair was damp enough that it clung to his skin, fresh wounds bandaged and stitched. They both knew they would heal fast, but not fast enough to leave them exposed. Bruises littered his battered form, intricate galaxies decorating his damaged flesh. Steve stood behind him, skin cleansed and fresh clothes clinging to his exhausted body. His hands ran over the curves of his arms, avoiding patches along his right. He peppered delicate kisses to his shoulders, pressing his chest to Bucky’s back.   
“You know, this used to be the other way around. Remember that?”   
“I remember every second with you Buck.”   
He turned to face Steve, his metal hand resting against his cheek. “Are you sure you feel okay? If you need to-“ “I’m not going anywhere. You need to take care of yourself sometimes love, not just me. I can handle a few bruises better than you think.”   
He avoided his eyes, looking at the white tile decorating the floor. “I’m just worried about you. I guess that protective streak hasn’t worn off, even seventy years later.” He gave a dull laugh, reminiscence washing over the two. “I don’t like seeing you hurt, even if it’s minor.” “Hey, that’s okay.”   
He tilted his chin up so that they were looking at each other. Their eyes locked, tension evaporating. “I don’t like seeing you hurt either.”   
They both leaned in, encasing the other’s lips softly.   
Bucky missed this. He missed the feeling of Steve, and his oh-so-delicate kisses and subtle touches and hugs and comforting words, and goddamn did he miss the feeling of knowing he was loved, regardless of everything he’s done.   
Steve let his hands rest on his hips, pulling him closer. He spent the past five years yearning for any connection with him, waking up crying when he realized Bucky was gone. His nightmares were generally consisting of Bucky’s smiling face dissipating into a mass of ash right in front of him. He worked tirelessly to bring him back, no matter the cost. He missed him so goddamn much. He missed his comforting laugh and loving kisses and deep embraces and late night conversations and the feeling of being with the one person who believed in him even when everybody else laughed. And he finally had him back.  
He eventually pulled back, his lips stinging from the fresh interaction he’d waited on for so long. Bucky leaned into his chest, hands resting on his back. Steve let his arms rest on his shoulders, entangled in his hair.   
“Let’s take care of each other, hm?”  
He felt Bucky laugh lightly, smiling against his body. “Yeah Stevie, let’s take care of each other.”_ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
